Chapter 5 - “Mom Said You’d Be Fine”Three days after delivery, Travis finally saw me.
Not privately.
Sarah was present.
Hospital social worker present.
No physical contact.
He entered crying.
“Hannah.”
I felt almost nothing.
That frightened me.
He looked older.
Unshaven.
Broken.
“How are the babies?”
“Alive.”
His face crumpled.
“Can I see them?”
“No.”
“Hannah.”
“No.”
“I’m their father.”
“Yes.”
“And that afternoon you chose a shopping trip.”
He covered his face.
“I thought you had time.”
“Why?”
“Mom said—”
I held up my hand.
“Stop.”
He froze.
“If the next sentence contains the word Mom, leave.”
Silence.
I continued.
“You’re thirty-four years old.”
He nodded.
“You heard me say my doctor told me to go immediately.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me collapse.”
“Yes.”
“You took my keys.”
“Yes.”
“You disabled the lock.”
Tears ran down his face.
“Yes.”
“You received a medical alert.”
He stared at the floor.
“Yes.”
“Which part did your mother physically force you to do?”
Nothing.
“Did she take your hand and use it to disable the door?”
“No.”
“Did she threaten you?”
“No.”
“Did she hold a weapon?”
“No.”
“Then stop giving her ownership of choices you made.”
Travis sobbed.
“I’m sorry.”
“Good.”
He looked up hopefully.
Then I added:
“Be sorry.”
“Become better.”
“Do whatever you need to do.”
“But none of that means I stay married to you.”
His face went blank.
“Hannah.”
“I’ve spoken with a divorce attorney.”
“No.”
The word came out instinctively.
Almost as if my decision still required his permission.
I stared at him.
He realized it too.
“No, please.”
“Why?”
“I love you.”
I thought about the kitchen floor.
“Maybe.”
He looked wounded.
“But whatever you call love taught you that my safety could be postponed when your mother wanted something.”
“That isn’t safe enough for me.”
He whispered:
“Can we fix this?”
May you like
“I’m going to fix my life.”
Whether Travis belonged in the repaired version was no longer his decision.
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